I don't want to write anymore about you,
but whenever I write about someone else
the verses of my poem refuse
to have a different subject or muse
for it seems like only you
can fit to my words,
can make it alive
and can give it some hue.

While the time is still on our hands
Let me come with you
In every destinations you'll go
So I can take a picture
of every moment you do
So that I have a treasure to keep
I'll savor every moment that we spent
So I can still memorize your face
So I can remember your exploits
Your flaws, and your mannerisms
In case you'll leave me.
But I know it will be hard for me to let go
If you didn't want me to tag along with you anymore
It is a dangerous destination you say, I wouldn't ever want to see
So I obeyed you, because all i want is to keep happy memories inside my pocket
So I won't come and set you free
I don't want to capture a girl lying on a casket
And I don't wanna remember your death anniversary.

I dreamt about losing you
but when I woke up
I realised that I
already lost you a long
time ago.

i wish these
teaspoons of smiles
and tears that i always
give, would be soon
a spoonful of smiles
and laughter.

How could I forget you?
The way you talk, the way you walk
The way you look at me, happiness shining through

How could I forget you?
The way you cared, your embrace
hugging me every night tightly
kissing me in the cheeks softly

How could I forget you?
The way you comfort, every time I shed a tear
you were there taking away my fear

How could I forget you?
You are the most beautiful person I've ever met
Your smiles and your love are true
i feel safe, and every time you sing a song
I feel beautiful, especially when you ended up
saying, I love you.

How can someone love me if I'm too broken?
If my scars are visible and ugly
If I keep too many secrets unspoken
And my heart is always unhappy

How can someone love me if I'm shattered?
I am a hard puzzle you can't ever solve
The pieces of me are scattered
And i am difficult to dissolve

How can someone love me if I don't even love myself?
If I'm the one who sends trouble
If I'm like an old book stock in a shelf
And a boring girl who doesn't go out from her bubble

So how can someone love me if I'm locked up in a cage
And too broken like a crumpled page.

You were blind
And I am blindly in love

You can't see the world nor I am
You told me to change my mind
I didn't, instead I made myself your eyes

It was happy being in love with you
Despite that you lack something, you were happy too
Yet you were sad because you can't see me and make me happy
So it's time to return the happiness you gave me

I gave you my eyes
And I was blind

You were happy to see the world for the first time
You noticed me and asked me who am I
I said I am the girl who stayed by your side

I held your face, you cried
I wiped it with my thumb and smiled
"Don't cry, love. Take care of the gift I gave you. Keep it, I want you to see the world by using the things i treasured."

How can I write a poem if I am stucked?
If my feelings are unfathomable
My words from my mouth can't be plucked
And my thoughts are so unexplainable

How can I write a poem if I stopped bleeding?
If my heart stops to function
And my lungs stops breathing
And my skin starts breaking to explosion

How could I write a poem if my soul is dead?
If my flesh starts to rotten
If the tears in my eyes I couldn't shed
And the memories I made was forgotten

How could I write a poem if from the beginning I have no feelings
And humans are also the reason why I stopped thinking.

Another day has passed by
The moon illuminates up high
Shining through the window's blinds
The cold wind begun to crawl behind

The crickets I hear made me unknot
Such a stressful day for a youth
A day of harrassment became so blunt
A part of me was lost like a missing tooth

I was intimidated by the fact
The truth that I was bullied by the society
Daggers of words are still intact
Cornering me in a room full of despondency

I let people disgust me
I let them misjudge my sincerity
I let the day becomes my misery
I let the day becomes the night of melancholy

Tick-tock-tick-tock
Here it comes, it's three o'clock
It's time for happiness until five
It's the moment of being alive

Finally, I have found peace
Where my heart is feeling glee
In a jocund room that I please
A room that has Him and me

It was then three o'clock;
where my soul peacefully lays
Wandering like a soft cloud
And the chirping of birds play
I thank God for being loved.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Like the waves in the ocean
I'll continue loving you.

But these roses aren't red
And violets aren't exactly blue
Even though you turn 28
You still manage to look like 22.

Once, my momma told me to be vigorous
She teached me how to fight with manner
She told me how to argue in righteous
She told me not to be hungry in power.

Once, my momma told me how to be a great man
She teached me how to do chores
She teached me everything in the long run
She was my hero, my saviour that I adore.

My momma, was there through my whole existence
She teached and tell me everything I need to know
She became my mother and father without difference
She was there everytime I get older and to get a blow.

Once, I miss her vanilla pie so I run back home
Feeling excited—I rush inside through the door
I have a big smile, but in a while my body became a stone
I saw it with my two eyes my mother was lying on the floor.

I snapped out and came back from my reverie
I was about to come closer when I saw my hands dripping with blood
Suddenly I saw a mirror with a reflection of me
I was holding a gun and a smile curved into my lips before I hear a thud.

I woke up, in a small filthy cell
I realized I am a prisoner
Time flies so fast I couldn't tell
I remembered I was a murderer.

I am a rose
white as a snow
a decent one
and purity is I show
i dance with the wind
as the moon shines and glow
but if it is about him
the one who tainted me
who carries hatred and anger
stained me with a red paint
for he is a threat of bloodshed
and all i know now is pain
and the purity i once hold
was now gone.

How can't I write a poem about you?
If everytime your metaphoric words sends tingle to my spine
And tickles my heart in every rhyme in your line

How can't I write a poem about you?
Knowing that I am your subject and muse
And seeing myself in your piece is an enough excuse

How can't I write a poem about you?
If the title seems talks about you and me
And the beginning was enough to make me feel giddy

So, how can't I write a poem about you?
If everything in this piece is made by your hand and fingers
And every word in my mind still lingers

But, how can't I write a poem about you?
If the ending seems a little bit messy
And I saw that you changed the muse into somebody.

How beautiful to hear a melody of pain
Eliminating tunes of rejoice
Every night my sheets were full of blood stain
Screaming but in a silent noise

Singing with a melancholic verse
In a lullaby soothing sound
Drinking liquor to quench the thirst
Loneliness embracing me is what i found

I tried to seek for light and hope
To find my cure and salvation
But instead all I saw was destruction
From there I knew where is my place I called home

And there, darkness is about to come again
Welcoming me in a place of mourning and dread
It's like a new level I reached after ten
Where you can hear songs of pain;
with a tone of dull and dead.